Also @runawaymarbles who requested this too: your wish is my command!
Sam is standing with Claire near the table of canapés at Stark’s New Year’s Eve party, trying not to look like a slack-jawed yokel (he’s pretty sure he looks like a slack-jawed yokel) when the Winter Soldier rolls up.
Sasha, not to put too fine a point on it, is looking sexy as hell. He’s wearing a terrifyingly expensive looking suit, he’s cut off his sad Kurt Cobain hair, and it looks like he actually took his time shaving instead of just trying to glare the beard off of his own face like Sam’s pretty sure he normally does. Claire is giving him an appreciative look. Bucky – he’s definitely very Bucky right now: maybe it’s the suit that does it – gives her a smile that you could use to power a small family home. “You must be Ms. Temple.” He sticks out his hand, and that smile widens and crinkles up the corners of his eyes a little, the charming bastard. “Bucky Barnes. Pleased to finally m-meet you, ma'am.”
“The pleasure’s all mine,” Claire says, and shakes his hand. She’s grinning. “I had a Trapper Keeper with your picture on it when I was in fifth grade.”
“Wow,” Sam says. “I had no idea I was dating such a huge nerd. Who has a historical figure Trapper Keeper?”
“Obviously you were the nerd, or you’d know what I was talking about,” Claire says. “It had Bucky’s picture on one side and Johnny-Depp-as-Bucky from that Cap movie with Val Kilmer on the other side. If you didn’t have that one or the Cap one you were basically a social outcast.”
Bucky ducks his head, all aw, shucks, which would be much more charming if Sam didn’t know that it was an calculated reproduction of a Steve move that Bucky knows damn well is adorable. Sam bets he doesn’t even know what a Trapper Keeper is. Bucky says, “I’m sorry to say that I made a little d-d-deal with your guy that wasn’t very respectful of you.”
“Oh?” Claire says. “And what kind of deal was that?”
Bucky sticks his hands in his pockets and rocks his hips forward a little, dialing up the aw-shucks. “Well, I g-guess he might have mentioned that he’s helping me out with my, uh, emotional problems.” Cue the sad blue eyes. Damn, this guy is good. “He g-g-gave me a little homework, and I said I’d do it if I could get a little k-kiss from him on New Year’s Eve.” Roll the sweet, mischievous little smile. It’s like watching someone conduct a damn symphony. “Of course we can call it j-jake if you’d rather we didn’t follow through with it, ma'am.”
Claire looks suspiciously happy. “Oh, no,” she says. “If he made a deal he should definitely keep it. Your boyfriend doesn’t mind?”
“My what?” Bucky says. Then, “Oh, you mean Stevie.” He looks back over his shoulder, and hollers, “Yo Steve, can you c-come over here?”
While Sam ponders when and where Bucky Barnes could possibly have picked up saying “yo,” Cap ambles over. Claire introduces herself, and manages to act like Steve is just her boyfriend’s friend from work instead of Holy Shit it’s Captain America. Steve looks relieved. Bucky says, “Hey, honey, do you mind if me and Sam neck?”
“Nope,” Steve says, and blushes. “I mean, uh, if you don’t mind, ma'am.”
“Oh, no, I’m in favor,” Claire says. “I just wish security hadn’t taken my phone.”
“I have mine, Steve says. “Do you want to borrow it?”
“Only if you don’t mind me using it to take a video of our boyfriends making out,” Claire says.
Steve says, “Oh, no, I’m in favor.”
Why is everyone in Sam’s life plotting against him? He’s a good guy. He’s kind and helpful. Why must they treat him this way?
“Hey, Sasha,” he says, “How do I know you held up your end of the bargain and took care of the cat?”
Bucky, weirdly, blushes, and then pulls an honest-to-god document folder from out of his suit jacket and hands it to Sam. “He took it really seriously,” Steve says quietly. Sam opens the folder up.
There’s a little stack of papers inside, each divided up into four quadrants with the date at the top of each section. In each little box is a checklist. Took a bath. Used bubbles. Used lotion. Shaved. Went outside. Talked to someone who isn’t Steve or kids. Combed hair. Used deodorant. Brushed teeth. Let Steve give me back rub. Asked for a hug (used words). Ate real food (not bean shake). Took nap (for brain cells). Then there’s a blank space for Bucky to write anything else that he did to take care of the cat.
Some of the days are whole long lines of check marks, plus other stuff that Bucky added in his careful, childlike block letters. WENT SWIMMING. PET CAT (REAL ONE). PAINTED TOENAILS. On other days it’s clear that Bucky couldn’t manage much more than brushing his teeth. On one day there isn’t a single check mark, and the notation just says, DID NOT HURT MYSELF.
Sam closes the file. Bucky looks nervous. Sam says, “Can I give you a hug?”
Bucky nods, and Sam gives him a big old hug. “I am so, so proud of you, buddy,” he says.
Steve says, “I told you, Buck.”
Bucky says, “So do I get a k-k-kiss?”
“You can have the second kiss after midnight, Buckaroo. The beautiful lady gets the first shot.”
“How generous,” Claire says.
“Yeah, I g-g-guess this beautiful lady can get the first shot too,” Bucky says, and kicks Captain America in the ankle.
“I’m a lucky guy,” Steve says, and he doesn’t even sound sarcastic.
By the time the ball drops Bucky and Sam are both a little giggly from too many trips to Stark’s open bar. Sam kisses Claire – which is fantastic, as usual – and Bucky kisses Captain America, which Sam can only assume is a really inspiring experience, like watching the sun rise over the Grand Canyon or something. Then they turn around and stare at each other.
Bucky cracks a little grin. Drunk-Sam thinks, oh, shit, he’s really attractive. Bucky steps in a little closer. “You look real nervous, sweetheart.”
“Well, you know how it goes,” Sam says, “I’ve never made out with an American legend before.”
Bucky does that thing where his eyes crinkle up, and he leans in to give Sam a kiss.
A piece of information that will surprise literally no one who ever saw his face smirking out at them from their high school history textbook: James Buchanan Barnes is a really, really good kisser. He’s also kind of a tease, doing these little licks into Sam’s mouth and then pulling back and grinning when Sam chases after him. After a bit they really settle into it, and Sam gets his hand into Bucky’s hair and Bucky starts kneading at Sam’s ass like they’re in ceramics class, and things are getting a little intense when Sam hears Tony Stark say, “Whoa whoa whoa! Get it, Terminator!” And a bunch of other people go, “Whoo!”
Sam removes himself from the Winter Soldier’s passionate embrace with a lot of grace and dignity, which is to say that that he makes a sound like “ngah!” and leaps backwards like the world’s most incompetent ballerina with the world’s most confused and patriotic boner. Bucky bites his lip and gives Sam another one of those little grins, and Sam would bang that like a timpani, and go home, drunk Sam. Sam points an accusing finger at Bucky. “You. You are going to get me in all kinds of trouble.”
“Not with me,” Claire says. “I’m willing to let this play out naturally.”
Steve is sweating a little. Bucky smiles and oozes on over to him, but he ruins the master-assassin effect a little by tripping over his feet halfway there. “Hey, baby,” he slurs. “You l-liked that, huh?”
“I think I should take you home,” says Captain Designated Driver.
Bucky leers and tries to whisper sexily into Steve’s ear, but Asgardian alcohol apparently has a particularly powerful effect on supersoldier volume control, because people in Oklahoma probably just looked up from their festive New Year’s cattle roundup (Sam’s never actually been to Oklahoma) to ask, “Did the Winter Soldier just say, “Yeah, you’re gagging for it, baby boy,” to Captain America?”
“Ok, champ, we’re leaving,” Steve says. “It was really great meeting you, Ms. Temple. We should all get dinner some time after Mr. Smooth here sobers up.”
“Hey,” Bucky says to Sam. “If Stevie goes to his therapy every week will you neck with him too?”
Steve turns bright red, which isn’t surprising. What is surprising is when Captain America grins and gives Sam Bambi eyes through his eyelashes. “Yeah, Sam,” he says. “Will you?”
Sam says, “I think I need another drink.”